2009-08-17 - On Our Next Episode . . .
2009-06-12 - RetroReflectionReaction
2009-04-13 - The Me Decade
2009-03-03 - Super Powered Sounds #3
2009-03-02 - Super Powered Sounds #2QUOTES! V.1QUOTES! V.2QUOTES! V.3QUOTES! V.4
A Very Merry Unbirthday For Me!
2002-10-03 - 9:01 p.m.
Well, well, well. A Very Merry Unbirthday to Me! That's right - me! Well, ok. I actually didn't get this written in time for my Unbirthday (which was yesterday), so I will have to wish myself a very merry belated Unbirthday! Yup, yesterday was my due date. I was only 1.2 lbs. when I was born. Ok, ok. That's not true. I was 5 pounds. And look at how I've grown. Where does the time go? Lots to cover, lots to cover, and very little time to cover it in. Let's do this in a bit of an unorthodox fashion hmmm? Some hate those rascally chapter books, but not me! So here we go . . . like sands through the hourglass, these are the days of our lives. Well, days of MY life I guess, but - fuck it, you know what I mean. . .
Saturday the 21st. I wrote the last entry at work and oh what a day it was. The day started off alright, despite all those millions and millions of boxes of Lights, Camera, FuckingFuckFucks. Then poor Kate had deal with me being in the exemplary (read: foul) mood that I was in during the afternoon (due to a sweet smelling package delivered unto me via IM by our ol' pal Becca). Exhale now. That's all I plan to really say about that for now. Kate wasn't exactly in her world-famous "good mood" either, so I tried to cheer her up with talk of the Company Picnic that would be taking place the following day. The thought of food did seem to perk her up a bit, but she still seemed in a bad mood. So I pulled out the old stand-by of "Cheer up! It's your special day!", to which was met by Kate with "I *hate* days. Especially special ones." Feh.
So I met Liz at the mall when I was done work and we went off to the magical wonderland known as 1018 Lilac Lane. Now, keep in mind, some of this already feels like ancient history, and due to the copious amounts of drugs floating around my noggin, half of it has probably already been swept clean from data banks entirely. So anyway, Liz and I get back to Dover and whilst I do laundry (UPSTAIRS MIND YOU, in the laundry room next to the ogre family that came down and yelled at us back in April) and at the same time talked to Brooke on the phone. We couldn't do anything until Ben, Rich, and Jimbo got home. Don't worry, I kept Liz busy - I threw her some Real World books and that entertained her for hours. We, unsurprisingly, were very hungry, and our eating was being impeded by the Three Fuckscateers buying $300 + worth of CD's at Bull Moose ($299 of which was Jimbo's) and checking out Jeff's new place in Portsmouth. They finally came home, and after we all got a little testy over Ben getting 1 of 2 pizza's covered in black olives (after 4 of 5 eaters said NO BLACK OLIVES) we ate, we drank and then we high-tailed it to Portsmouth. The five of us (Liz, Jimbo, Rich, Ben, and I) went to Jeff's place (which is BIG and NICE) and met up with him, Amy, and his roommate J.T. We watched the end of Scary Movie 2 which several of us were made social pariah's for never having seen. We drank at Jeff's for a bit and then decided to go downtown.
Rich: (aside, to audience) "I will go anywhere but Tequila Jacks."
Zach: (aside, to stage manager) "What's my line?"
Stage Manager: (aside, to Zach) "Tequila Jacks always has annoying lines and is annoying."
Zach: (aside, to stage manager) "Oh right, thanks" (aside, to audience) "Tequila Jacks always has annoying lines and is annoying."
Jeff: (not having heard Rich and Zach's pleas, as they *were* asides) "Let's go to Tequila Jacks!"
Ryu: "Yes! Tequila make me super happy fun!"
So we go to TJ's, as I lovingly call it, and shocker of shockers, we wait in line. But, it wasn't as bad as it has been in the past (meaning, Jeff and Ben weren't given enough idle time to try to break in through the kitchen again). We got in and went into the "outer-bar". The bar that you can drink in and form a line while waiting to get to the "inner-bar". Right. So I continued my uninterrupted streak of Bud Light and Sam Adams while we were in there and we basically watched other people and made fun of them (i.e. - the cowboy at the bar with a 10 gallon hat and a belt buckle the size of Tracey Lundgren - which, I'll have you know, is HUGE). A vodka & red bull, and a Hefeweisen later we decided that Tequila Jack's wasn't the nirvana that we thought it would be. (Cue Rich and Zach exchanging knowing glances). We decided to next go to the basement bar at the Brewery, which was probably for the best, since the Tiki Bar and The Gaslight haven't seemed to care for us in the past. It was fun. Jimbo and I had Kamikaze shots and I stupidly drank more Hefeweisen (a beer I always seem to convince myself that I like when we go out, while Bud Light sits in the corner, arms crossed, waiting for me to come crawling back). But what really made the night for me (that is, other than Ben spilling his beer on Jimbo and I - on seperate occasions) was that I cornered the jukebox and squealed with glee when I saw they had both discs of Sand in the Vaseline in there. So I played Sax and Violins, Life During Wartime, and of course, This Must Be The Place. I think the TH had a numbing effect on me that didn't let me realize how drunk I was. I think if I had known to stop drinking a few drinks before then I wouldn't have ended up lying down in the street an hour later.
So there we were, waiting for a cab, me in the street, and girls drunker than me walking by checking my pulse to make sure I didn't expire. This whole part is a bit murky but: There was a cab ride. I remember tapping the driver, who was on his cell phone, on the shoulder. I was going to tell him to pull his boat over because I was NOT going to make it to 1018. By the time he got off the phone and asked who tapped him I had forgotten I even tapped him, and despite a close call at that 8W Exit, I made it home without pulling a Road Rules in his cab. But as soon as I got out of that cab, I Road Rulesed all over the lawn next to Crazy Billie's window. And then I passed out. On the lawn. Behind our place. For a long time. And I apparently refused to go inside and sleep on my bed. And somewhere in there I am told I threw a glass of water at Jimbo "for scaring me". And I told him "You know how I feel about getting scared." Again, I'm getting this all second hand. What I do know, is that when I woke up the next morning, having not taken my shirt off, my bed was filled with sticks, moss, grass, and dirt. Sweet. And Rich was long gone. Ben, Jimbo, and I surmised that one of us hooked up with him the night before and, feeling the situation too awkward, fled in the early morning hours. So, after a scrumptious breakfast buffet at Robin's Place in Dover (where I was in a rare mood in which I found absolutely everything HILARIOUS - but I mean, c'mon, large woman in floral patterns are FUNNY, I don't care *how* hungover you are!), Liz, Jimbo and Ben settled down for the Pats/Chiefs game and Kate arrived in time for us to ride off into the picnic sunset. Except, I mean, it was only 3, so - you know, there wasn't any sunset. Whatever. Fuck you.
Ryu: "Lot of Sake make Ryu pass out on lawn at his prefecture too!"
So Kate and I, after a wrong turn or two - resulting in a trip to the Portsmouth Waste Water Treatment Plant, arrived at the Picnic. And we were so unfashionably on time. Not cool. But, we did stop at Market Basket first and we brought apple spice bread (me) and fruit bowl and fruit dip (kate). And how funny is this? One of the main reasons Kate and I went (I mean, besides socializing with our kooky co-workers who we love like family) was to show up the new kids who had signed up to go after only having been employeed at the Wallakers for like 2 hours. Well, guess what. They no showed up. So blech. I mean Feh. I mean . . . I don't know. Anyway, pretty much everyone came except the new kids and Andrea & Phil and the kids (they're too cool you see - I mean, it WAS a weekend). Things went alright. Kate and I became Beth's son Joey's legal guardian for a short time while we chaperoned him at the playground. The March's, Karin's family, all the Breneman's (except Ernie and long lost brother), the Sprankle's (. . .) the Coffey's, Allison and her brood, Jen and Michael, and Eliza and her friend were all there. And so was the fruit dip. Oh man the fruit dip. Now, I'm not a real big dip guy. I'm not. It's a fact. But sweet lord, I found God in this dip. It was so fucking good. So Kate and I decided to start a rumor that the dip was rancid and that people should avoid it at all costs. Which must have made them wonder when they kept finding us by the water shoving fistfuls of dip in our gaping maws. Anyway, after I had a few ginger ale's in me (Canada Dry of course) and I started chatting up Marianne and Karin about the upcoming Alias season premiere, I *may* have let slip to Marianne that the dip just *happened* to be an orgasmic taste explosion. And maybe it caught on like wildfire and the next thing we knew, no more dip. Needless to say, I was not someone's favorite person for the rest of the picnic - which was no big loss since Kate popped Benadryl and slept off the rest of the affair while I had headphones on keeping everyone abreast of the Patriots game that was in overtime, that they eventually won thanks to the superheroics of Vinatieri. So, as Kate and I drove off into the post-picnic sunset, she slowly, quietly, and with teeth clenched asked me, "Why . . . why did you tell everyone about the Fruit Dip?" I spastically answered, "I didn't! I swear it! I kept up my end! I mean, I only told Marianne! And, well . . . I mean, she might have told Karin, and well . . .", only to be cut off by Kate, now talking at a level reserved for deaf men with pink cards "YEAH, and 'she told', and 'he told', and 'she told' . . . It's Called NETWORKING!" Sigh. I took some painkillers and missed Adult Swim.
Ryu: "MMMM! Nothing say Picnic in Ryu's family like rabbit eyes and cat dip!"
So Monday was Monday and school sucked and my teeth hurt and there was lots of vomiting on Road Rules and I probably cried myself to sleep while at the same time trying to lure the earwigs out of my brain with some Earwig-B-Gone.
Spark Man: “Ha Ha. Spark Man like Earwigs-B-Gone.”
Ryu: “Ha Ha yourself Man of Spark. Earwig make bountiful feast for Ryu family.”
So Tuesday, after meeting and greeting all the “New Kids”, and after a quick trip to Soprano Land, Andrea and I left for Boston to meet Jimbo for the Mr. Show. . .um, show. You know - Bob and David! Anyway, if you don’t know, it’s Bob Odenkirk and David Cross. And even if I had never seen an episode of Mr. Show they both earned enough points from me for BOTH having guest-starred on NewsRadio, BOTH being in Waiting for Guffman (although David’s part is very small, and Bob’s is well, even smaller), and they were the guests on one of my favorite Space Ghost Coast to Coasts! So yeah. Major Zach Street Cred. Not “Zach Street” Cred, but Zach “Street Cred”. Nevermind. Whatever. Fuck you. So ANYWAY, we met Jimbo outside the Orpheum and we went inside to the balconiest of balcony seats. The show was actually called “Mr. Show: Hooray for America!”. And Hooray was it funny. The cast consisted of Bob, David, Brian Posehn, Stephanie Courtney, and Boston’s own John Ennis. Other old cast members appeared on filmed segments, and there was even a cameo by everyone’s favorite Dick, Andy Dick. The whole show was great, and they did new stuff, old stuff, filmed stuff, improv, etc. Tim Curtis - they will be in San Francisco very soon. Like, within days. Check it out if you know what’s good for you. Their tour schedule is up at www.bobanddavid.com I even got to meet John after the show as we were leaving! Ok, well, shake his hand - but still, very cool.
BOB: “You’ll have Power, Pussy, and Poptarts!”
DAVID: “GASP!!! The three P’s?!”
Ryu: “Stupid American Dogs. Hooray for Land of Rising Sun!”
I’m sure something of note happened on Wednesday but I’ll be damned if I can remember it. I know I worked with Marianne and Nick. Nick of “New People” Nick. I filled Nick’s head with all sorts of lies, the least of which was about my Saab that’s in the shop. And he didn’t think me to even be 21. Sigh. So yeah - Wednesday, I worked, I missed Ed, smart money’s that my tooth hurt and I had to go home and study for my French Quiz that would be administered the next day by the world weary teacher’s assistant, Anne-Emmanuelle. Ohh Anne-Emanuelle.
Ryu: Jer swiss Ninja! Blame not Ryu, I learning the French from Tim McLaughlin!”
And then came Thursday. Yes yes. French quiz taken and English paper neglected, I left for work with promises of a rose garden. But then when I got there Andrea reminded me that no one ever promised me a rose garden. Now if someone had promised me a “Jeremiah’s”, we would’ve been in business! [Ok, anyone who gets THAT joke deserves a special red and white Sachem emblazoned medal. Because only the oldest of old skool Laconians would get such an arcane Union Ave reference - now, back to our regular scheduled Thursday] I worked and worked and worked some more, and then Kate came in, and Nick skipped/went to a wedding. Kate and I spent much of the evening splitting our tender sides over her trying to dress up in little girl dress up clothes and then cry over her getting caught / asphyxiated in them. Good times. Good times. But then it was time to pay the piper. And oh was the piper paid! By one Dr. Robert “Rocket” Romano! That’s right, as anyone who watched last week’s ER knows, Dr. Romano got a *little* too close in his game of Red Light, Green Light, Helicopter Blade. So ol’ Stumpy Romano made for some of the bloodiest, pukiest, stomach turningest scenes on television since the final episode of Veronica’s Closet. But the best part of the episode, HANDS DOWN had to be all the gratuitous Abby portions. Not only did she shed *some* clothes when being checked for monkey pox, but she shed ALL her clothes in the final scene when she went skinny dipping in Lake Michigan! Dave Nelson would be simply aghast! And poor wittle Carter was so forlon about having to be stuck in the same area with Maura Tierney for 2 straight weeks. Poor baby. Don’t worry faithful readers, that’s Kovac and I you see plotting in the corner. Watching. Waiting.
Chen: “You know, I was the voice of Mulan.”
Abby: “You don’t say.”
Chen: “I do say.”
Kate: (from off-stage) “Mmmmmm . . . pizza.”
Ryu: “Yes. Ryu am liking this Chen very much. Mrs. Chen Hayabasa! Yes. Sounds clean and rings like metal!”
On Friday, Ben and I got wasted and watched Gosford Park. I can't believe I just admitted that.
Ryu: “. . .”
Saturday I worked the night shift so Kate could have it off in order to gussy herself up for the Deerfield Fair the following day. I worked with other “New Kids” Haley and Justin. Fine people. Good good people. From a hearty stalk. Like hearty beef stew. Mmmmmm . . . beef stew. With Dumplings. DUMPLINGS.
Ryu: “Ryu like Chunky Beef Stew. But even Japanese laugh at little girl Kurt Warner in his blue and gold kimono of shame.”
Sunday, I also worked. That’s right. So my 4-H loving friend could go to eat her weight in corndogs, I went against one of the Zach Commandments and worked on Sunday. It sucked ass. Which sucked even more ass (yes, even more than Helen Hunt), was that the Patriots didn’t win. I won’t say they lost, because that’s too negative. I DO know that Andrea and Phil and Todd and Rex have never been over before for dinner and football until Sunday. I don’t want to draw any conclusions, but . . . well, I guess I just did. But there was tons of food and lots of beer left over, so that’s always a plus. Oblongs was funny too. Which is always nice. Especially when it’s a Helga-centric episode. Oh, and the Alias season premiere kicked ass. Plus, we have a patchwork rug now thanks to Todd and Rex leaving behind Winnipesaukee sized spots of chocolate milk and knocked over beer!
Ryu: “Me always like Patchwork Girl. No trust evil talking sawhorse!”
And then, out of ABSOLUTELY NOWHERE - my teeth starting hurting. I know. I was shocked too. But seriously Clyde, this was blinding, skullfuckingly awful pain. The shooting rusty razor blade earwigs of death pain now shoot from my upper chest to my skull. “How did he get that heart attack doctor?” “Toothache Jim. Toothache.” So yeah, so the pain was so bad, and I was trying to conserve my dwindling Roxicet so I stayed home from school and took a Me Day. A Me Day consisted of me watching NewsRadio and playing Kingdom Hearts on my PS2, which is now my newest and most out-of-control addiction since Vicodin. Seriously, Kingdom Hearts kicks ass and I love it so much I want to marry it. [“He admitted it! He wants to marry a carrot. . . I mean a Kingdom Hearts!”] Anyway, I watched Road Rules that night and shockingly, there was no puking to be seen. Though I’m suspicious about that and will check again when it repeats.
Ryu: “You ask Ryu, he tell you Kendall is one fine piece of spring roll!”
The return trip to Health Services. So we met again. Tuesday morning - after class. But this time the appointment was much shorter and I started to fear my reputation when people start knowing me by name there. So they checked me out. They agreed that the Roxicet (which by this time I was needing 3 just to get through a night) wasn’t doing the trick anymore so they prescribed me more Vicodin. Hoo-ray for Vicodin. Mmmmmmmmm. It’s no Large half cherry / half pina colada Mister Misty Freeze but it does the trick. Real World was less trashy than usual, which was a nice break and Brad and I laughed ourselves into hysterics over that new MTV show “FM Nation”. It’s not supposed to be funny, that’s the best part. Forever will the phrase “I got SCALDING hot water thrown at me and that is NOT OK!” make us laugh. And I will also take this opportunity to apologize to Brad for putting him on Shout. Yet again.
Ryu: “Those Prescott Girls at Dairy Queen with their backdoor deals and Blizzard shenanigans helped Ryu save enough yen to go to Bovine Universiy!”
8 AM doctor’s appointment to see if we could get to the bottom of why I lost all feeling in my left arm the night before and didn’t have the strength to make a fist. I was hoping for a cool diagnosis like “Vicodin addiction” or “U.T.I.”, but got neither. The doctor suggested that perhaps my back pack is holding too much weight and I should get one with wheels. Riiiiiiight. I worked last night, of course, took the bus home, watched a bit of Larry Sanders (which is now on syndication on Bravo every night at 10!), and then went to bed, only to get up this morning and take yet another French Quiz courtesy of that minx from Gaul herself, Anne-Emmanuelle.
Ryu: “Ryu legs tired. Sick of running and talking in whimsical broken English.”
And then there’s today. The day after my Unbirthday. The day I learned how much a someone else's hooded sweatshirt in the rain can make your whole day turn around. The day I called the Oral Surgeon's office and told them there was no way in hell I could wait until November 1st for my face disfiguring surgery. (For the record, it will be October 22nd now - more on all that next time). Kate is growing impatient for me to finish this and is throwing ducks at me to show her frustration. I can now sleep easy knowing that Tim, Monique, Liz and the rest of the Party Posse will stop e-mailing me threatening letters demanding to know why I haven’t updated my journal yet. And perhaps this unhealthy dose of Zach ramblings will help to quell Rachel’s odd running set of Zach dreams. Rachel, I promise that the two of you can eat all you want, free of charge, at the wedding. Speaking of weddings. Molly is now officially Molly NotDemark, which is her new new name since I don’t know her real new name. And tonight's ER promises less helicopter accidents and more naked Abby! In the shower no less! There seems to be plenty of gristle for all of you to chew on in this here installment so I’ll leave with this:
“Long ago / I was an angry young man. I’d pretend / that I was a billboard. Standing tall / by the side of the road. I fell in love / with the beautiful highway.”
Ryu: “Stupid Talking Heads. Ryu always prefer Blondie. Debbie Harry - rrrwwoar!”
It’s been real,
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